


The Electric And Smarmy

by CircusBones



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Female Friendship, Femslash February, Friendship/Love, SHIP DARCY WITH ALL THE THINGS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-07
Updated: 2014-02-07
Packaged: 2018-01-11 13:25:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1173584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CircusBones/pseuds/CircusBones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The snarky hackers of their respective families of choice, they're bound to get along. A lot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Electric And Smarmy

**Author's Note:**

> Meant as a bit of smutty fluff for your femslash feb, I admit these two are kind of...burrowing into my head now, oh dear :D

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“To the good guys,” Darcy lofts a glass to no one in particular, though the cluster of nerds behind her gets her fond, indulgent smile as they babble at each other over the pub's pool table. A far cry from the usual Shield agents who liked to mess with her and Jane's groove, this team was a rightful hoot. The kids are fawning on Jane like the rest of the snobby, non-classified science world rightly should be, while Studly McStrongjaw and Thor are quietly keeping the actual game of billiards moving, a healthy level of he-man competition in the air as they do.

“Are we that?” A voice pipes up at her side, Skye grinning wide as she claims the bar stool to Darcy's left, in a short flowery dress that prompts Darcy to loft a brow. Skye rolls her eyes, “Hey, do you have any idea how often we get furlough? Not. Often.” Darcy laughs, clinking glasses with the other woman as soon as she's got her wine in hand.

“To a heist well-heisted, then,” Darcy proclaims, straightening her own top and jeans. “You were brilliant back there, Miss Grunge Thang,” She smiles wide, nudging Skye's doc martins, “Rerouting the power cells that fast? Damn.” A beat, during which Skye preens a little, “...Of course, I mean, I'd have gone through that hub he'd set up out in Chiswick, but that probably would have taken more time.”

“He had a hub in Chiswick?” Skye blinks, and Darcy grins, biting her lip.

“Totes easy to miss, don't get me wrong,” Darcy gives her a wink, and Skye narrows her eyes.

“All right then, what's your super-power?” She asks. Darcy only blinks, “Oh come'oooon, Fitz and Simmons nearly creamed their pants over meeting Jane Foster, and Thor is...well, Thor...and you corrected like, six of my codes back there,” At that, Darcy does preen a little herself, “What's your damage?”

“You call it damage?” Darcy muses, before shrugging, swishing her martini in the glass before taking a hefty sip, “I don't know? Not sure I have anything, even,” She sighs, “I went to Culver, I signed up for Jane's internship...and I stayed through everything that's happened since,” She smiled again, looking to Skye, “Maybe that's my thing. I'm not an alien god or a brilliant scientist. But I stayed through the weird. The...beautiful, terrifying, world-almost-ending weird.” 

“I've definitely seen weird,” Skye admits, draining her glass in one go and motioning for another, “Definitely takes a special kind of person to want to stay through the weird. And don't sell yourself short, those keyboard skills aren't nothing,” She gives Darcy a little smile, “...When I got swept up in things, though...well,” The Shield agent who doesn't look anything like a Shield agent sighs, and Darcy tilts her glasses down, watching her closely. Skye smirks, shrugging, “Apparently there's a lot about me that's a mystery, too. Something that makes me worth trying to kill sometimes.”

“Mystery Woman, I dig it,” Following her lead, Darcy orders herself another martini, dirty, with the most expensive gin the place has to offer (hey, it's on Zombie-Phil's tab, she'll get back at him any way she can). “I mean, I'd kill for that lightening-brain of yours.” She smiles, but it's softly, and when Skye smiles back Darcy feels like she's earned a gold star. 

“So,” Skye leans in a bit closer, and Darcy lofts a brow, “Tell me some weird stuff.”

“Okay so, how much do you know about portals?”

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Darcy's forgotten just how much softer a girl's lips can be, and she's thoroughly reminded of the fact when she and Skye stumble back to her shabby London flat, only a few blocks off from where their coworkers are still partying it up, science-and-muscles style. “Sorry!” She whispers, when they both trip over the threshold, both of them laughing, until Skye's tugging on Darcy's belt-loops, pulling her into another kiss. Darcy kicks her rickety old front door shut behind them.

They're not drunk, just at that nice, fuzzy, warm place right at the peak of a buzz, which is frankly Darcy's favorite place in the world to be. Especially when it involves makeouts. And more than makeouts, apparently, as Skye starts tugging at her frilly bit of a top, pulling back to look her in the eye as she does. Darcy just grins, biting her lip, tossing off the thing herself with only a flickering of insecurity in her blue eyes...because well, the girl in front of her has the kind of spritely little build she's always envied.

Skye seems to be of a different mind, though, her gaze and jaw both gone a little slack at the sight of Darcy in just her jeans and bra. “Damn,” She swallows, hard, swaying a little as her hands return to Darcy's hips, “...So, it's been a while, with another woman, I mean...”

“Been a while period, over here,” Darcy murmurs, sliding a hand up into Skye's messy long hair, tugging her in for another kiss, backing the pair of them through the shoebox apartment and into her bedroom. “Been so busy making sure my scatter-brained bff has all she needs...Shield still doesn't know they've been paying our grocery bill for the last eighteen months. I don't think.”

“Oh my god, keep talking,” Skye breathes, grinning, popping the hooks on Darcy's bra. Darcy's hands go to her slim hips in turn, sliding that flowery dress up her thighs as she does, her lips trailing down Skye's throat.

“Got into NORAD last week,” She murmurs, finding the zipper to the dress after only a little needless, appreciative groping. “Just to check and see which UFOs were and weren't debris from Thor's last joy-ride 'round the globe on Mew-Meuh.”

“Damn,” The back of Skye's knees hit Darcy's futon, and suddenly she's stilling, hesitant, and Darcy can only tilt her head, watching her. Skye's pause only lasts for a moment, and then she's drawing in a deep breath, looking Darcy square in the eye as she reaches for the hem of her dress herself, “I've ah. Kinda got a couple of new scars, is the thing,” 

She says it nonchalantly enough, but Darcy knows her shades of nonchalant. It matters, her reaction, as the dress goes fluttering off somewhere over Skye's head. It's difficult to disappoint, though, staring at Skye like she's far more drunk than she really is. “Holy shit, look at you,” Darcy swallows hard, stepping closer, sliding her hands up Skye's hips again, the lean muscle on her torso, “Agent,” Darcy grins, and Skye's face colors just a bit, her bottom lip under her teeth and yes, Darcy needs to kiss her again, and does, her paler hands still moving over the tan skin before her.

She does feel the scars, though, two of them, separate and both on Skye's stomach. Circular, with more spindly, ragged bits around them. Darcy feels the need to grip her even closer, kissing her harder, urgently, sliding her tongue along hers softly, before pulling back slightly, “In the stomach?” She murmurs in an incredulous whisper. Skye nods, her own hands sliding over Darcy's bare back, brushing the ends of her long brown hair.

“Hurt like hell,” The agent admits, her eyes flickering over Darcy's face, carefully, “...I wasn't joking when I said there are people out there who want me dead, Darcy.”

“Stupid people,” Darcy maintains, kissing her again. Skye's the one who eases back onto the bed, then, her breathing thready as Darcy bends to press her lips to the marks on her otherwise way too perfect stomach, ribs. That sparks something, something sharp, Skye sucking in a breath before flipping them over, Darcy laughing as her back hit the covers, and then dissolving into groans when Skye's lips are on her tits, her hands on her hips, pushing off her jeans and panties in one go. Darcy reaches up to flick off Skye's underwear as well, her far too cute, plaid-print bra flying across the room. Skye grins against her skin, 

“Damnit, your breasts are amazing,” She murmurs, sliding back up to kiss her mouth, and Darcy can't help the downright girlish sigh that leaves her throat, her hands all in Skye's hair again. 

“I've heard,” Darcy breathes, grinning right back, just before Skye is sliding back down again, her lips brushing kisses over both nipples, a hand slipping between Darcy's legs. “Shit,” Her head falls back, and a long time or not, Skye knows knows her way around, replacing her fingers with her mouth before too long. Her tongue parting her lips, eyes fixed on Darcy's over her stomach, her breasts, Darcy's amazed when she lasts as long as she does, rolling her hips, coming against Skye's mouth after only a few minutes, gripping her hair hard as she cries out to the ceiling.

Licking her lips and grinning like a cat, Skye moves back up to kiss her long and slow, but Darcy isn't disarmed for long, kissing her back with a vigor. Turning the pair of them over, her hands moving over Skye's smaller, yet firmer, downright adorable tits, Darcy grins mischievously, rocking her wider hips, Skye gasping into her mouth. “Way better ways to deal with a good mystery,” Darcy murmurs, touching those scars again. Skye's arms wrap around her neck like a vice, and yep, Darcy's a goner, gone and done in.

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In the morning, Skye wakes up in a pair of warm arms, a soft, sweet-smelling body next to hers. Burying her face in Darcy's mane of long, curly brown hair, she recalls the night before in vivid detail almost instantly, wrapping her arm around those curves, pressing her lips to the swollen, red and waiting lips waking up under hers. They have sex again in the tiny, sputtering shower, the hot water failing no less than three times before they come against each other, laughing and shrieking and kissing in the ice cold deluge.

Afterward, Darcy gives her some of her own clothes, because that dress of hers isn't exactly day-wear. Skye is wrapping her arms around herself in an over-sized hoodie stamped with the Culver crest, a ridiculously contented grin on her face as she heads for the door, fiddling with her cell. “I should check in with everyone, be responsible and stuff...” She pauses, looking to Darcy, who just shrugs, smiling back.

“I gotcha, wouldn't want Mama Coulson worrying.”

“You have no idea,” Skye snorts, taking pause, before leaning forward and kissing the other woman gently, all of each others edges gone dull when they're close. Skye likes it a lot, “...Hey um. I'm not crazy for thinking this could...you know....maybe be more than a fun night?” She's amazed at how easy it is to ask. It's never been that easy to ask. 

“So very, very not crazy,” Darcy looks a little shy herself, biting her lip, “Even considering, yanno, the crazy jobs.”

“No kidding,” Skye grins, bouncing on her feet once, “Meet up for lunch?”

“I like this plan,” Darcy replies, reaching around to open the door for the Lady, giving a courtly bow. Skye laughs, turning to face the narrow hall outside, just as her phone starts to ring. “...And there's the zombie devil himself, beatin' you to it.”

“No kidding...wait, zombie?” Skye blinks, flicking reply, “Hey sorry, I know I should have called before going AWOL...”

“Simmons tracked your phone, not a problem,” Phil's mild voice replies, and Skye narrows her eyes at her device in consternation, “Furlough's been cut short, I'm afraid, we're up in 20.” She shuts her eyes hard at that, huffing

“Really?” She growls out, and Darcy's raising a brow, playing with her hoodie-ties, “LONDON, Coulson, you promised us a vacation, sight-seeing...bubble-baths...”

“Aw hells no,” Darcy protests loudly before Phil can reply, swiping Skye's cell and hitting the speaker phone, “Philip Bartholomew Steven Rogers Coulson, is this getting personal?”

“...That's not even close to my full name, Miss Lewis,” Coulson sighs on the other end of the line, “And no it's not...”

“Really? Because as I recall,” She goes on, and Skye can only watch her, eyes gone as wide as her grin, “First you take my iPod and never return it. Then you took Erik's sanity and never returned it...”

“That was Loki...”

“Okay so you took Erik, period, and put him on a project from which his sanity, consequently, never returned,” Darcy snaps, and Skye whistles, “Then you die horribly, which made Jane and I feel all kinds of guilty for hating your guts when Thor told us,” Skye blinks, “And now you're alive! And taking my really cute, potential girlfriend away early. A girl starts to wonder, _Philip_.”

“...Noted,” The humor in Coulson's voice is unmistakable, and Skye smirks, “I promise to have her back to you in four days, how's that Miss Le...Darcy?”

“Acceptable. Understand, however, if I remain skeptical.” Darcy agrees, primly, and Skye leans in to kiss her as she's handed back her phone, swiftly, yet firm, backing off down the hall with that same wide grin.

“Four days, lunch,” Skye promises, before turning to go, Darcy's satisfied chuckle following her as she hisses at Coulson, “You 'died horribly'?!”

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Of course, it's hard to predict anything accurately these days, especially with gods and government agencies involved. Despite the odds, however, four days later to the hour, almost, Skye struts into Jane Foster's lab with fish, chips, and a battered white iPod in the pocket of her Culver hoodie (which she never returns, and Darcy never asks for back). Darcy takes this as a good omen, for all that follows.

 

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End file.
